The first time I saw the shockingly powerful sprite Marilyn Mazur, she was lighting brushfires under a late-career Miles Davis electric band. But Elixir is the polar opposite, with the Danish percussionist quietly evoking alchemical magic and natural spirits, as if percussion were, indeed, a medieval potion that could transform lead to gold.Paul de Barros, DownBeat

Marilyn Mazur, the Danish percussionist who has worked with some of the greatest names in jazz, has a universe of bewitching sounds at her fingertips. They encompass tuned instruments… and unpitched items… Yet solo percussion albums are difficult to pull off, however good they sound. Mazur avoids … the pitfalls by constructing Elixir from 21 short pieces, melodic, rhythmic and textural by turn, and by inviting her former boss, Jan Garbarek, to join her for half the album. These duets … contrast with dazzling, percussion-only pieces… Mazur’s tunes Clear, Dunun Song, Joy Chant and the closing Clear Recycle feature Garbarek at his melodic and moody best.John L Walters, The Guardian

The protagonists here are world class, and Mazur not only engages virtuosically with an inviting range of percussion instruments, but also ensures that each track does not outstay its welcome. On almost half, including six joint, spontaneous creations, Mazur enjoys a telepathic communion with Garbarek, in fine form on tenor/soprano and flute, to add spice to the sounds she conjure up.Ray Comiskey, Irish Times

Mazur had been a member of Garbarek’s road band for 14 years, so their rapport is substantial. This album can act as a souvenir of her solo spotlight sections during a typical gig, where Marilyn’s entire pan-continental kit would often be caressed or brutalised within a five or ten minute feast of percussive sensitivity. Here, though, the moods are divided into segments of two or three minutes, usually directed by whichever item she’s selected, from an exotic collection that includes waterphone, magic drum, sheep bells and udu drum. Her sonic materials range from rumbling bass skin-vibrations to tiny metallic tinklings, wobbly gongs to plinking marimbas. This is her own vision of global ethnicity, not springing authentically out of a single tradition at any one time but filtering her own improvising personality through percussive devices that she’s come to know with great intimacy. It’s jazz, folk, global and ambient in turn.Martin Longley, Jazzreview